Drabbles and Containment by A Forum User

Drabble Eighteen - Road Trip

#18

~Sang~

I managed to pull on something that Gabriel had named a 'jumpsuit'. It was a one piece, loose and comfortable. Light pink, with a black belt a little underneath my breasts, somehow making my legs look longer. Since Meanie wasn't there, I pulled my hair into a messy bun and clipped on a pair of strapped leather-looking sandals.

Then, I went to go collect my rusty spork. The threat wasn't false, I actually owned one, and I intended to cause damage.

I flung the front door open in what I hoped was a menacing way, but let's be honest here; I was pretty small. Being small and menacing was a hard feet. But I was doing half decent, from the look on his face.

I brandished my spork.

"Now, now, Princess, let's not be hasty!" He said, holding out his hands in a peaceful gesture. I glared and went to hit him-

The most wonderful car I'd ever seen was in my driveway. It was sleek, black, beautiful. And I recognized it.

"Bentley R-Type Continental, built in 1954, one of only 208 ever made," I whispered, my eyes going wide.

"How'd you know?" Victor asked, puzzled but obviously pleased that I wasn't going to dig his liver out with a rusty spork.

Oh, don't worry Victor, I thought past my general awe, there's plenty of time.

"I've wanted one since I was seven," I explained. I'd seen it when burning a disk filled with my music on the computer and had fallen in love with it. And believe me, want it enough and you can fall in love with an inanimate object.

"Oh. Good. Looks like I made the right decision then. Anyway, I have a surprise of the most shocking and exciting magnitude."

"What, pray tell, would this surprise of shocking and exciting magnitude be?"

"ROAD TRIP!"

***

"Where are we going?" I asked again.

"Somewhere fun."

"Give me a clue."

"It's a fun place."

"Give me another clue."

"If you don't shut up, we'll never get there because I'll be too busy shutting you up for you."

"That clue wasn't very insightful."

Victor sighed and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. I stroked the dashboard, beautiful mahogany wood, shiny and smooth.

"Princess, I like the car too, but it's just an object. You can't love it."

I glared at him, my most hurt and mean glare. I pressed my cheek to the dashboard, giving it a little kiss.

"Don't worry, baby, he didn't mean it. He was just being hurtful," I soothed. No one insults the Bentley.

"Dear god, you're in love with a car."

"No, I'm in love with a car."

"I know. That's what I said."

"No, you said 'dear god, you're in love with a car.' Implying god's in love with a car. I'm the one in love with the beautiful, wonderful, sexy Bentley." He looked at me. I looked back.

"It was an expression."

"I'm feeling very literal today."

"Obviously."

"Indeed."

"Most indubitably."

"Undoubtedly."

"Positively."

I paused, looking at him. "Victor?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"Where are we going?"

"Shut up."

"I don't think that's a real place."